To Live Again For You
by nightmarekitt
Summary: Post S5. Arthur returns, not for Camelot or his Queen, but for Merlin. Merthur. Slash. Will be 5 chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Two years after the battle at Camlann, Queen Guinevere was sitting in her room at a wooden desk, filing through old paperwork that had originally enstated the laws on magic in Camelot. The past year had been a trial without Arthur, and with the kingdom's defensive force cut in half, she had simply been too busy to address what was probably one of Camelot's most pressing delimmas: the laws against the use of magic. Over the past year, several sorcerers had been thrown into the court and Gwen had dived into loophole after loophole trying to keep them alive. Finally, she knew she had to make the magic issue a priority. She was just about to call for a scribe for assistance, when her maidservant burst into the room unannounced.

Gwen jumped to her feet, swept around the desk, and rushed worriedly to her distraught maid.

"Colette, what's wrong?"

"There's a sorcerer at the gates! The knights are holding him off, but he says he knows you, my lady. No one knew what to do!"

"A sorcerer?" Gwen wondered. "What did he look like? What's his name?"

Colette opened her mouth to reply that she didn't know, when Leon practically ran into the room, wide-eyed and desperately trying to catch his breath.

"Leon, _what _is going on?"

"Your Majesty...it's _Merlin!_"

"M..._Merlin?!_" Gwen gasped, and abruptly ran out the doors, Colette and Leon hot on her heels. She made it to the city gates in record time, where a scrawny dark haired man stood, a hug bag slung over his back, and his arms raised in the air. He was surrounded by Camelot's knights, swords drawn.

"Lower your swords!" Gwen snapped at them. "For Camelot's sake, it's only Merlin!"

"He said he was a sorcerer, my lady!" said one knight, who hesitated to lower his sword.

"Yes," Gwen agreed, taking in Merlin's wide-eyed expression. "He is a sorcerer, and if it wasn't for _him, _none of us would be here. Now _lower your swords!_"

The knights put their weapons away, looking somewhat put out by the whole affair.

Merlin, poor thing, looked very relieved. He was dressed in clothes that had certainly seen better days. He looked road-weary, and skinnier than Gwen remembered. As she drew him into a gentle hug, a million questions battered her mind. Here was the one person who could tell her the truth about Arthur. While he had been declared dead, no one had actually seen the king's body, and Merlin had been the last one with him. Out of respect for her friend, the Queen held her tongue, at least for now.

She drew back and smiled, taking in the state of his expression.

It did not bode well.

His eyes were tired and sad; their brimming ocean blue looked grayer now.

"Prepare a room for him," Gwen said, pulling completely away and addressing her maid. "I want Merlin treated to the best Camelot has to offer, and he is not to be harassed for his use of magic."

"Gwen," Merlin rasped, voice rough with disuse.

"Hush," she told him sternly. "You'll talk later, once we've fed you up and you've rested properly. I know you, Merlin. If you've come back, it's for a _reason_."

His expression was grim, but he nodded. Gwen led them all back, briefly chastising the knights for harassing Merlin. She focused her rant on Leon, as he was their leader.

"They should know better than to hesitate after being given a direct order, Leon."

"My apologies, my lady," the first knight tuttered back. "They're young and a bit thickheaded."

Merlin walked silently behind them, but raised his brows at this statement. _They can't be worse than Arthur ever was, _he reminisced to himself.

"Colin can take your bags, Merlin," Leon informed.

"No," Merlin insisted. "Sorry, Leon, but the things in this bag are actually rather valuable."

"Are you saying you don't trust us?" Gwen asked sadly.

"It's not that," he protested. "They're valuable and _dangerous_."

"Should we be bringing it in the palace then?" one of the younger knights asked, looking skeptical.

"So long as the bag stays with me, it is safe," Merlin reassured.

"If you say so," Gwen muttered, leading them further into the castle. They settled in the dining hall, where Gwen called for a meal. "Just Leon, myself, and the servants are allowed in here right now, Colette. Oh, and Percival, too, if you please."

"Yes, my lady." Colette curtsied and left the room.

A heavy silence settled in the hall.

"Merlin," Gwen finally voiced, "where have you been?"

Merlin didn't honor this question with a reply. Instead, he untied his bag, and reached inside. He pulled out something that looked suspiciously like...well, like a rock, but he held it as if it was the most fragile thing in the world.

"What is that?" Leon wondered, shifting uncomfortably. "Is it magical?"

"In a way," Merlin said. Percival then walked into the room. He froze at the sight of Merlin, sitting casually at the dining table, before falling into the closest chair.

"Okay," he said on a shaky breath. "I'm all ears."

Merlin offered him a weak smile. "This," he declared, holding up the rock-like object, "is a dragon egg."

"A _what?!" _Leon blanched.

Merlin nodded sharply upon seeing their looks of shock. "I have seven."

"_Seven?!" _Gwen exclaimed, giving his satchel a horrified look. "Where did you find seven dragon eggs?!"

Merlin ignored the question. "They're old, nearly past their time, which is why they look so much like rocks. They were well hidden. I plan to hatch them. _All_ of them."

"Merlin!" Gwen said, nearly in hysterics. "You...you've been gone for two years! We weren't even sure that you were alive. What happened to you? To...to Arthur?"

Merlin's expression become violently neutral.

"He's dead," the warlock said flatly.

"A...are you sure?" Percival cut in, looking concerned.

Merlin actually glared at him. "He's _dead._"

Gwen sunk in her chair a little. After a year of silence, all her hope of Arthur returning had perished. Deep down, she just knew that he was gone. It wasn't much of a surprise, but still...

"Just...how?" the Queen asked softly.

"Mordred stabbed him at Camlann, with a sword forged in the breath of a dragon. A piece of the sword broke off inside his body. I could not save him."

"What about Morgana? We haven't heard or seen her since then."

"I killed her," Merlin said bluntly. "Once Arthur was gone, I went back to burn her body. Simply burying her was too risky."

"And Mordred?"

"Dead."

"Merlin," Leon asked after a long pause. "What exactly are you capable of? I mean, you're a sorcerer, right?"

"Gaius told you?" Merlin wondered.

"I guessed," Gwen admitted. "He hinted a bit, though."

"Where is he?"

Gwen eyes saddened. "We lost him to a fever last summer. I'm sorry Merlin."

Merlin didn't look surprised but he looked away from all of them.

"I'm a warlock," he seemed to address the windows. "I am the most powerful sorcerer who has ever been and who will ever be. I was prophesized by those of the Old Religion to be Arthur's protector. With my help, he would unite the lands of Albion and bring peace. The prophecies called him The Once and Future King."

"What do they call you?" Percival asked.

"Emrys."

"Emrys?" Leon gasped. "Morgana was terrified of you, and Arthur was driven half mad wondering who you were, a sorcerer hiding in the court of Camelot. Did...did Arthur ever find out?"

Merlin looked like he might cry. "On the last day, I told him."

Gwen drew in a sharp breath. "Did he believe you?"

Merlin smiled bitterly. "Not at first. I had to _show_ him, and then...well, there was no denying it."

"Was he angry? He must have been," Leon said as Merlin nodded.

"He was at first, but...he got over it quickly enough."

"He must have realized..." Gwen said thoughtfully.

Merlin frowned at her.

"Gaius," she clarified, "he told me a few things."

"I see."

"So," Leon started, "dragon eggs?"

"I'm a dragonlord, son of Balinor."

Leon sputtered.

"How did you manage to find seven dragon eggs?"

"I heard them. They called to me. They've settled down a lot since I collected them, but I can't stress this enough: they must hatch, and soon, or they will die. I cannot allow that."

"So you brought them here?" Gwen said dryly.

Merlin glowered at her. "Camelot owes the dragons a great debt. Kilgharrah was wrongfully imprisoned for decades. Uther had the dragons and the dragonlords hunted and killed. Yes, _I brought them here._"

"Calm down, Merlin," Leon warned.

Merlin turned on him with a snarl. "_No! _I spent five years keeping my mouth shut and I am tired of it. There were so many lives that could have been saved, if I could have spoken my mind back then. I'm done keeping secrets. You can either accept my help, or perish without it. Either way, where I go, they go."

"How can dragons be helpful?"

"How _couldn't _they?! I am a dragonlord, and I'm not sure if you understand what that entails. They are subject to my will. You cannot sit there and honestly tell me that dragons would not be useful allies to Camelot. One _baby_ dragon nearly did you in at Camlann, and would have if I had not arrived to send her away. They're not mindless beasts, Leon. They're intelligent."

Merlin was practically seething with anger.

"You're different, Merlin. Colder." Percival observed.

"Well, what do you expect? I had to watch my best friend die, when I had spent _five years _doing everything in my power to keep him alive. I lived my life always on the crux of death, with prophecies and expectations practically raining down on my shoulders. All I wanted was to burst into the new era with Arthur at my side, but apparently, hard work reaps no reward for those who have sacrificed the most."

"I wouldn't say no reward. All has been well for the past two years."

Merlin levelled his eyes at Gwen. "There is an army of sorcerers forming between Mercia and Anithest. The kingdoms have been plotting to overtake Camelot ever since half of it's defenses were lost and its king died. In your defense, as far as magic goes - and it will be the deciding factor - you only have me."

"Do we?" Gwen demanded. "Do we have you Merlin? Will you help us?"

Merlin stood at his full height and let his eyes flash gold as he decided, "Give me responsibility for the laws and punishments regarding magic. Let me raise the dragons here. Let magic be allowed back into Camelot, let's Arthur's legacy live on through Albion, and yes, Gwen, you have me."


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur awoke on the shores of Avalon, stark naked in the grass and mud. He cursed Kilgharrah as he rose to his feet on shaky legs. The dragon had promised that he would be reborn in his original body. He had said nothing of the state of said body once he was restored. Arthur finally got his balance and took in the frailness of his form with distaste. His usual muscle tone was utterly absent.

_I look thinner than Merlin! _was all he could think, a truly disheartening notion.

He glanced around, recognizing the half light of what could be either sunset or sunrise. It took him a moment to find the sun, but seeing as he hadn't the slightest clue where this lake was even located actually defeated the purpose.

_So either it's about to get really dark, or really light, and I'm still not wearing anything!_

He glanced towards the cover of the woods and quickly marched in their direction, praying silently to the heavens that some wayward traveler might have left a pair of pants lying around. As it was, he had no such luck with that. However, fortunately, the was the dawn he had witnessed, and the sun was rising in the sky as he tripped and fell through the forest, using his knowledge of hunting and tracking to keep himself going in one direction.

_Five years_, he despaired, _I've been away for five years!_

Midway through the day, Arthur stumbled upon a small village. He stole a tattered cloak off of a drying line and stepped into a rundown tavern. He bothered to ask the owner for a glass of water, which earned him a scowl, which was why Arthur ended up asking a local what village he was actually in.

"It's Kelta."

"Isn't that it Anithest?" Arthur wondered aloud. "I'm in Anithest?!"

Anithest was a small, secretive kingdom that sat to the west of Mercia. It had flourished when Arthur first reined, but its secrets were still very well kept. The Kings of the other Four Kingdoms often said that Anithest housed geniuses and that there royal line consisted of dragon blood. The issue at hand, however, was that Anithest was a far cry from Camelot's borders. There were two ways he might make it back to Camelot: he could either take the long way around the Perilious Lands, which stretched right between Mercia and Camelot, or take a chance and try to traverse the Perilious Lands himself.

Arthur wasn't stupid. There was no way he was stepping foot in that bloody dessert again.

"How might I acquire a horse?" Arthur dared ask the barkeep.

"Tanen has an old bay mare. He rents her out once in a while."

"Excellent," Arthur declared, realizing quite suddenly that he didn't have a penny to his name. "Do you know where I could get a loan around here? Or a quick job that pays well?"

"Not in Kelta, and nothing short term," said the patron grumpily.

Arthur grumbled, finished his water, and left the bar. He hid just outside of town until the sun went down, his stomach grumbling all the while. Once it was completely dark and the town was quiet, he snuck into one of the corrals and snuck out the tamest horse that he could find and some old riding gear, promising himself that he would come back and pay his due later. Since he was already acting like a shady criminal anyway, he nicked an old hunting bow and a few apples from a farmhouse before heading out.

He road as hard and far as he could that night, just breaking Anithest's borders before dawn, and barely missing a patrol of Anithest knights. He hid in a ravine, tethered the horse in a well-covered spot, and passed out in some swamp grass, exhausted and bruised from the hard ride. He woke up again at sunset, cursing himself for putting himself on a schedule that saw him travelling mostly at night, but he wouldn't waste time.

_I have to get back to Merlin!_

Now he only had to pass through Mercia, which was by far the most ruthless of the five kingdoms, to get to Camelot. _They won't recognize me now anyway, _he thought, sadly. _I'm not the king anymore, not really. _He ate a few apples, drank water from a nearby stream, and collected the old horse.

"Come on, girl," Arthur pleaded. "Don't fail me. Take me home."

They disappeared into the forest.

Over all, it took Arthur two weeks to reach Camelot's borders. Mercia was as perilous as ever. It hadn't been easy getting past its border patrols, and then Arthur spent a fair bit of time dodging Camelot's own knights, most of whom he did not recognize, and thus logically concluded that they would not recognize him. He didn't plan on bursting into Camelot, renouncing himself to the world and reasserting his thrown. Arthur's plan of action was much subtler, and involved getting the attention of only one person.

He made his way to Delma, a large village about half a day's ride from the castle. It was easy enough to set up work with the local hunters. Arthur offered his services, as he'd grown quite handy with the bow he had stolen, and the men there gratefully accepted. Arthur planned to earn a little money first, and then to do a bit of surveillance on Camelot, to see how much had changed, before he actually made his presence known. On his first hunt with the villagers, however, things went spectacularly wrong.

He was aiming to kill a nice buck, had a perfect shot, when out of nowhere emerged an enormous white dragon. The villagers, predictably, fled in terror. Arthur glared Aithusa in the face.

"Now they'll rush off to tell Gwen, and I'll have to move to another village! What did you do that for?!"

"Kilgharrah told me to protect you," Aithusa replied sassily.

"So you've regained the ability to speak then?" Arthur wondered. The dragon did indeed look much healthier than he remembered. One of her wings was a bit off kilter, but a little damage was to be expected after what she had been through.

She preened. "Merlin helped."

"Yes, that sounds like something he would do." Arthur sighed and sat down on a fallen tree trunk. "I bear no grudge against you, Aithusa. Kilgharrah told me what happened, but did you really have to show up now?"

"Merlin will come here now," Aithusa told him. "He'll probably be angry with me." She laughed. "Won't he be surprised?" Arthur couldn't help but recognize traces of Morgana's attitude in Aithusa's speech.

"I don't think I'm ready for him yet."

"He's been waiting."

Arthur frowned. "I wasn't aware that he knew I'd be coming back."

Aithusa shook her head. "He wasn't. It is his soul that waits for you, my king."

Arthur glared at her. "Somehow you remind me of Kilgharrah and Morgana all at once."

Aithusa bowed her head. "I'm flattered."

"Don't be," Arthur snapped, rolling his eyes.

Suddenly, a series of arrows flew towards the dragon, and Aithusa jumped back to dodge them. She roared violently.

"Fools!" snarled the dragon.

Arthur leapt up to stand in front of her.

"Stop!" he called out. "She's not hurting anyone!"

The chorus that called back was not reassured: "It's a dragon!" "Get away!" "It's not safe!"

Arthur was breathing heavily, before he called back. "Go to the Queen, find the Dragonlord! Bring him here!"

The hunters exchanged glances and spoke in harsh whispers. After a long moment, they seemed to come to some sort of an agreement.

"We'll send a messenger to the castle." A good portion of them raced back towards the village. Arthur retook his place on the log. Aithusa curled up beside him.

"He'll be here by sundown, my king."

"It will take that long alone for the messenger to reach Camelot," Arthur corrected. "He'll probably be here by morning at the earliest."

"He has more dragons," Aithusa informed. "They are happy to serve Emrys. He will ride one here. Silvia, probably. He favors her."

"There are dragons in Camelot?" Arthur wondered.

Aithusa smiled, in her dragon-way.

"There are many."


End file.
